


Darlin'

by adrakeg



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Au where i just picked whatever i wanted and ignored canon, Concussions, Injury, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Pet Names, Slow Burn, maybe not so slow burn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-06-19 13:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15510645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrakeg/pseuds/adrakeg
Summary: After Lance gets a concussion he realizes that older Keith is... surprisingly soft.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This isnt my first fanfiction, but it is my first for voltron. Ive also never actually ""finished""" one so um... hopefully this happens like i want it to,,, im sorry if its really bad I tried my best, dudes. Also side note, i feel really bad bc 1000 words is the shortest fic ill read and i /barely/ hit that. i also dont read incomplete without a set number of chapters, so obviously im too picky. I hope this makes someone as happy as it made me to write it, and i hope i get my shit together and finish it! anyway, rambling over~

Lance had a habit of running through the castle, and also bumping into walls. These two habits weren’t _always_ as intertwined as they were in this moment, but maybe they were at least, a little bit related. From the kitchen to his room was anything but a clear shot. Many twists and turns obscured his path, and especially after what he had just eaten, navigating was nearly impossible. So yeah; _maybe_ Lance had a habit of running into walls, but was it really his fault? 

Coran had concocted some disgusting sludge, as Hunk was away on a diplomatic mission with Allura and Shiro; Lance was the goose just silly enough to try it. Lance could cook back home, if you counted macaroni and cheese, but the food goo was a mystery. There was no additive someone at his level could include to make it palatable, and it was a job best left to Hunk. Lance had the sneaking suspicion that cooking had been far outside Coran’s usual responsibilities, even in the time of Altea. However, despite that, Lance tried the sludge. What he expected was a mystery, but it certainly wasn’t anything as putrid as the taste that touched his tongue. 

So, Lance had been running to his room to empty the contents of his stomach in peace. If it weren’t for the stupid, seemingly sporadic, placement of walls, Lance would have made it unscathed, but that was not the world he lived in. He smashed his poor noggin directly into a wall where, according to him, it would have made far more sense to have a turn. This wall held nothing, aside from the entrance to the training room, and that was far on the opposite end, but the impact was apparently loud enough to reach. Laying there on the floor, preparing himself _emotionally_ to open his eyes, Lance heard the quick succession of steps as someone ran to see what happend. 

“What did you do?” Keith’s voice asked from beyond, and “Did you really just run into that wall?” when Lance only groaned in response. 

He would say no. He would say _Sorry keith, your plan didn't work. i'm just fine…_ if his mouth would work. He had the words, but they wouldn’t move. They stayed stagnant in his brain, no matter how hard he pushed. He couldn't hold down Corans “food,” he couldn’t run down hallways he should know by now, like that back of his hand, and now, he couldn't even speak? Lance could feel tears welling in the corners of his eyes, and then the sobs that followed were uncontainable. 

“You definitely have a concussion, Lance. You need to go to the infirmary” Keith sternly directed, but Lance stayed on the floor, and his sobbing never faltered. “It’s not that bad. I’ve had a lot of them myself. It’ll get better” he coaxed.

Eventually, Keith gave up on reasoning with him and lowered himself to the ground, gently stroking his hair. Which sure shocked the hell out of Lance; his tears slowed instantly. Keith- Keith _his rival,_ was petting his hair and attempting to _soothe_ him... and it was working. He sat frozen under the strangely pleasant feeling of Keith’s hand cascading over the top and sides of his head, pointedly avoiding what Lance knew must be an ugly, glaring knot growing on his forehead. It was… surreal, and after he had been quiet for sometime and his breathing had truly leveled, Keith reached out his hand for Lance’s.

“I’ll take you to get checked out by Coran” he offered. 

With a slow nod of his head, Lance accepted.  
…

After careful examination, Coran practically exclaims, “Well number 4, you certainly have a concussion.” 

Lance groans. It wasn’t enough to have a concussion, especially given how he acquired it, Coran also had to call attention to Keith now being taller than him. It was barely an inch; _maybe_ 2, but Keith’s shoes probably made him taller. 

“Can we put him in a healing pod?” Keith asks from the doorway of the room where he, quite edgily, Lance might add, leans. 

Lance stiffens, before Coran answers. “No can do, number 3. The healing pods won’t work properly without Allura being in the castle. The best bet Lance has is to let it heal naturally until she returns.” to which Keith huffs and re-enters the room.

“Come on Lance, I’m taking you to the training room.” 

To which Lance squeals indignantly. “I can't train, I have a concussion!” This whole time, Lance thought Keith was being weirdly responsible, but maybe he was just trying to get him alone while he couldn’t defend himself to finish him off? It seemed unlikely, but the man wanted him to train _now?_ What other explanation could there be? 

“So I can make sure you don’t fall asleep, genius.” 

That made sense. Or it was a really good excuse. Either way, Lance decided to follow Keith out of the room. 

…

In the training room, Keith asked Lance to sit, _No, don’t lie down,_ against the wall. It was uncomfortable, if that was what Keith had wanted. 

Lance looked on as Keith moved through the levels of the simulation. How taking two years away from the war could make him a _better_ fighter, Lance would never understand, but it was obvious. Keith swung his sword with a certain peace, Lance thinks, maybe his face has never known. It was rhythmic, and watching it was… relaxing. Before he knew it, Keith was calling for the training sequences end and rushing over to him. 

“Lance you have to stay awake, okay?” he said clearly. 

Lance hummed. “It’ll be alright, Mullet. I’m up.You can go now,” as he burrowed himself into the wall, closing his eyes once more. 

“You just need to be up a few more hours, and then you can sleep. Just focus on something else.” 

“‘m tired” Lance mumbled into his jacket. Would it really be so bad if he slept? Why did Keith even care so much? 

“I know darlin’, but stay up” he pleaded.

Lance felt a wave suddenly crash through his entire body, and with a deep sigh, he decided to stay awake, as long as he could help it. 

“Fine, Mullet.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance just wants to know why the hell keith is being so nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried to make this super fast, but i have a job, im moving into my dorm this week, and season 7 killed me, so i dont really know how i thought that would work :/ also: i literally didnt expect even a portion of the kudos, comments, views, or anything this got?? thank you so much?? im scared this is going to suck now in a way i wasnt really scared before? but its also kind of pleasent because i feel like i need to finish it. Im done rambling now, i really hope yall enjoy it!

Lance was finally allowed to go to sleep when Keith decided he wasn’t so disoriented. He walked him back to his room and told Lance he would come to check on him every few hours. It was… odd that he cared so much. He had gone so far as to call him _darlin’,_ like some handsome, rugged cowboy in one of his mom’s westerns.

Lance almost wondered if he had imagined it; which was a possibility, given how he felt at the moment. He had to have been _completely_ out of it yesterday, so it couldn’t have been what he thought.

Even if it was what he thought, Keith was two years older. It wouldn’t be outside of Lance’s expectation for him to flaunt it like a newly 13 year old, to all their non-teen friends. _You aren’t a teen yet sweety, you wouldn’t understand…_ but you weren't either yesterday, Keith. No need to be condescending. 

Still… Keith _was_ older. It was undeniable. 

Lance couldn’t wrap his head around it yet, and it had been weeks since Keith had returned.  
…

Keith came to check on Lance around an hour after he woke up; which granted Lance plenty of time to grow his distrust for his behavior. 

Keith had cracked the door just enough to see.

“How’s your head, Lance?” he’d asked after catching Lance awake, entering the room. He left the lights off; Younger Keith would have done it to make him trip, Older Keith… motives unclear. 

“Still hurts.” uh, duh. “feels kind of full. Like i'm dreaming.” The description was right on, but somehow wrong, too. The way he felt was on the tip of his tongue but he had no other way to articulate it. It would sound stupid to anyone else.

“That's normal,” Keith’s eyes focused on something other than Lance. “hopefully, everyone will be back soon, so you can use the pods.”

It was silent for a while after that. Not in an uncomfortable way… not like it was there because there was nothing to be said between them. Just natural, because they didn’t feel they _had_ to say anything. 

Or, at least, that's how it felt to Lance. Silence just… wasn’t a thing for him. There was always something he felt he could, and should let out, but not now. Older Keith was confounding. The second he found something he could go at; something he could turn into a joke or jab, Older Keith fixed it. 

Everything was off, like it had been for weeks. 

Lance shifted in bed. Burrowing himself into the wall, as if it would improve his ability to assess the situation, but Older Keith, once again, seemed to know exactly what to do and say. Or he _would,_ if the fact that he knew just what Lance needed wasn’t the stressor. 

He sat behind him and began carding his fingers through his hair, like he had before, leaving a horrific warmth in Lance’s chest. 

Keith’s other hand moved to rub at Lance’s back. It was, disgustingly, the most at home Lance had felt in a long time. 

This Keith was so openly caring and kind, but the more he gave, the more Lance felt robbed. 

“I can bring you breakfast, if you want.” Keith bargained, still unhalting in his... comforting. 

“I’ll pass.”

Keith hummed. With one final stroke of Lance’s arm he stood, letting his land linger. He even bent down to make direct eye contact, before finally telling him to ‘speak up if he needed anything.’ 

If Young Keith had once looked down on him, Older Keith babied him, and Lance was quickly learning the latter was worse. 

Which made it clear that he had, in fact, called him darlin’, but it was definitely in the ‘sweet with kids way.’ The felt wrong for some reason, too. 

…

With Hunk gone, Meals happened whenever the remaining paladins decided they, individually, were hungry. Or, they ate what Coran made, and that had proven to be the wrong move; for Lance, at least. 

Pidge had a tendency for eating all 3 meals in the 8 hours everyone else slept. Keith and Lance had crossed paths within the first few days, but with training, had managed to avoid each other. 

The training schedule was also a decision made open to all the paladins. With half the team gone, group exercises were cut, leaving only individual work. Keith spent the same, inane amount of time training as ever, and Pidge had… hacker shit... to occupy her time. Lance took the time he could to get in and train, and those were the hours when Keith ate. 

The point is, they hadn’t been seeing much of each other until Lance’s incident. 

So, Lance really wasn’t expecting to walk into the kitchen for a shared lunch with Older Keith, who he was now, officially, avoiding. 

But despite expectation, he sat across from Keith eating food goo, yet again, in silence. Just this time, it _was_ uncomfortable. 

Lance knew he was being cagey about the whole thing. Keith could probably tell, and was backing off, but if he didn’t have anything to say about it, he was probably as confused as Lance. 

Even Young Keith was oddly caring if you caught him in the right place and time, and when you did, it felt special. Lance could admit that much. 

Some things felt like… excuses. Keith was never as judgemental as Lance had wanted when they were rivals, and now that they were- friendly rivals? 

A team? 

either way, Keith had grown to care at _some_ point it just wasn’t so freely given. 

Maybe that’s why Lance was uncomfortable? 

So many questions and theories ran through Lance’s head as he gazed across the table, spooning tasteless goo into his mouth as Keith did the same. It was becoming unbearable. 

Maybe he could try to… hopefully lighten the air. 

“So… your mom, that's new,” Lance tried, Watching Keith’s expression. 

His eyebrow raised. “Not exactly. Krolia is the same mom i’ve always had.” 

Lance’s instant response was to slap the palm of his hand to his forehead, which really wasn’t the best decision. 

The second it hit the pain had him seeing stars all over again. 

“Ow! shit…” Lance groaned rubbing at the now, once again throbbing, lump. He pushed himself down into crossed arms forcing his bowl out of the way. At least this time he wasn’t crying. 

“Jesus, Lance!” Keith jumped up, “I’ll go get you some ice.” 

As he fled from the dining room, Lance sat and wondered if being injured was the only way he’d ever get this Older Keith to respond to him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if i used chapter titles, this would be "im on fire" by bruce springsteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo i wanted to update this way sooner but turns out, college is hard and in addition to that, i hate my writing now and I dont know how to make it better :/... like its not great but im gonna keep taking whacks at it. Also side note, this chapter did not go how I planned it and I hope it doesn't mess up the plot but we'll see...

Although he had contemplated fleeing the room before Keith returned with the ice, Lance stayed and waited. He played with the idea of confronting Older Keith once again. Asking him where he got off treating Lance like a worm just because he was injured… or even knocking him back down a peg. Keith wasn’t _that_ great. Yeah, of course he had been improving before. He’d been growing into his role and he was becoming a real team player, but it wasn’t like that was all on his own. They were a team. They’d all worked together with Keith, until he left… and became… this. 

Older Keith didn’t act like he needed them at all. The bastard hadn’t spoken a _word_ to Lance, except to brush him aside. Like they’d never bonded at all, and they _had._ They were… close, or at least getting there. Whatever happened on that whale... Keith must need a goddamn refresher, because he didn’t _act_ like he remembered. 

By the time he showed up with the ice, Lance was fuming. Keith sat down beside him this time and reached for his face, only to be pushed off. 

Lance watched as his face moved from just shocked to hurt; and he almost felt bad about it; until Keith reached out, brushing his hand along his cheek and directed Lance’s eyes back towards his. 

“What's wrong, Honey?” he asked with his big, disgusting, sad, puppy dog eyes. The sparks from Keith’s touch had set him on fire. Every ounce of rage that Lance had floated to the surface like smoke as he burned. 

“You!” he practically screeched. “Stop treating me all weird! You’re acting like some- some, Mom or something since you got back. I have a Mom already Keith, I don’t need you!” Lance half expected Keith to pull the same shit again. Call him “Baby” or something else equally gross in his sweet, grumbly, cowboy voice instead of yelling back, but he didn’t. 

“I’m not trying to be your Mom! We’re a team, Lance, and you’re hurt.” Despite his argument, Keith still wore the wounded look from before. Lance tried not to care. 

“If we’re a team, then act like it! stop treating me like a baby!” Keith took a breath as if he wanted to speak again, but Lance stopped him. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t check on me.” 

The automatic door had just shut behind him when he decided he actually did want the ice. 

…

Back in his room that night, Lance couldn't help but feel a little bad. Keith shouldn’t have been so rude to Lance, but he had seemed genuinely hurt. Maybe he wasn’t even doing it on purpose. 

He rolled back and forth thinking about it until he heard a knock on his door. _If this is Keith…_ he told himself as he stood. He would take back his “feeling bad” if that bastard had come to check on him.

And of course upon opening the door, Lance’s fears were answered. Keith stood, fidgeting in place, and looking the youngest he had in some time, as Lance glared at him. With his Head tilted down, he was even shorter than Lance again. 

“I told you not to check on me, _Mullet.”_ Lance warned. Keith glanced up and back down quickly, looking guilty (as he should, Lance might add). He sighed, deeply before answering. 

“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” Which was _not_ something Lance had expected to hear. Keith must have seen the surprise on Lance’s face, too, because when he looked down again he smiled and huffed a little laugh. “I don’t usually do this.” 

“Apologize?” Lance asked teasingly. 

“Yeah.” Keith agreed. “I guess I learned something about that while I was gone.” his eyes were focused on something in the distance as he thought, and Lance waited for him to continue; for him to explain himself.

“I wasn’t trying to treat you like a baby. I just know… everyone's gone right now, and you have to heal like normal… I thought I could…” Keith’s nose scrunched like he had smelled something disgusting, “comfort you… I guess

“But I shouldn’t have assumed I know what you need” Lance’s “feeling bad” returned full force as he looked at Keith’s dejected little face. The man may have come back gruff and grizzled, but he was no less pitiful for it in that moment. 

“Look man,” Lance sighed “It’s cool that you were trying, but you’ve been an asshole since you got back. You went off, grew up, became a leader, and you left us. It’s just not that easy. We’re all a little bit pissed off, you know?” 

Lance’s final claim was completely unsubstantiated. Everyone was pretty thrilled to have Keith back, and Lance would have included himself in that, before Keith had decided to open his mouth. Lance lost a friend and it had… hurt; and it still did. 

Keith looked down guiltily again. _It's not a good look on you, Keith._ Lance thought to himself, placing a bracing hand on his arm. 

When Keith met his eyes again, he wore a determined look that wasn’t so foreign to him. “I want to make it up to you, Lance.” he said. 

Lance could feel the heat rushing to his face. He was burning again. Keith knew he was the only one that had been pissed, and hurt, and he was going to fix it, just like Older Keith did best. 

Lance dropped his hand from Keith’s arm quickly, hoping to any force in the universe he couldn’t see his blush. 

Crossing his arms over himself, Lance began backing away from his door. 

“Go back to bed, Mullet” he grumbled.

Keith put out his arms, with a hand over either side of the automatic door, stopping it from closing on him. He leaned into it, and with the stupid smirk he liked to wear, finally said “goodnight, darlin’.” and left as the alarms inside Lance’s brain screamed. 

He was on fire again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah basically 1. im sorry i made them fight 2. keith was not supposed to actually flirt with lance it just kind of happened bc hes Like That™ 
> 
> thank you so so so so much for reading, maybe 3 chapters is a little soon but.. i think i love you. 
> 
> p.s. im not even gonna pretend i know when ill update this time bc im messy :/ sorry


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i wanted to combine this chapter with the next, but ive been writing all day and i really just want to post it now so, beware, i might combine them once the next chapter is done. I feel like i didnt quite hit the mark with this one, unfortunately :(

That next morning, Hunk, Shiro, Romelle, and Allura returned in high spirits. The diplomatic mission had been an overwhelming success and Hunk was already planning a movie night in celebration before they'd even left the planet’s atmosphere. Needless to say, Lance was equally excited. Movie nights in the name of team bonding had been planned before, and they were fun in some ways, but the fact that they were mandatory dampened the mood. _Certain_ people who had no real interest in attending showed up in a heightened state of Wet-Blanket because it was required. A celebration wasn't a requirement, however, so the _actually_ fun people aboard the castle ship could do what they did best. Plus, with Romelle being there, it might be even _more_ fun than Lance was imagining. 

Lance's best guess was it would be Hunk, Allura, Coran, Romelle, and himself for certain. Pidge would be there, lurking behind the couch on her laptop, barely watching, until her typing became a distraction. Shiro would start the movie with them, leave to try and convince Keith (who most definitely wouldn’t show up) to join them, then he would be back to see the credits. 

Even if not everyone was together, it would still be a good time, and for all Lance knew now, maybe Keith _would_ show up. 

Keith had been the first to tell Lance when the rest of the team got back. He didn't knock, and he still didn't flip on the lights. Lance woke to Keith sitting on the edge of his bed, poking at his face, and smiling at him like an absolute creep.

Well… it should have been creepy, at least. The warmth bubbling Lance's chest disagreed. 

“Allura and the others are back. You can use the healing pods now” Keith whispered once their eyes met. Lance’s eagerness must have shown on his face; before he even _began_ moving to get up, Keith had placed a halting hand over his chest. “Easy, darlin’” he smiled playfully, “I don't need you hitting your head again.” 

Lance's heart begged him to bury his reddening face deeply in his sheets… or Keith's stomach… and wait for whatever molten sugar words would drip from his mouth next… but Lance couldn’t let him get to him like that. 

Keith had a sudden tenacity for pushing Lance’s buttons and saying all the right things, and even though the _treatment_ was nice, it was awkward. Lance liked to think his brain was a bit smarter than his gullible, traitorous heart, anyway, so he did the next best thing: with his cheeks still red, he sat bolt upright and toppled Keith to the floor. 

“I can hit my head as much as I want! we have the healing pods!” Lance protested. 

Keith gave a full laugh, with the kind smile that was gradually becoming less rare, and righted himself. He took a second to pull his hair from his face before finally standing, and Lance couldn’t ignore that. 

“Growing out the mullet become too much, samurai?” 

Keith's nose scrunched in confusion. If nothing else, at least Lance could rest easy knowing he was still clueless. 

“Your haircut, Keith” and at that, Lance could have convinced himself Keith looked offended. 

“I haven't cut my hair since the garrison.”

That had to be a lie, but Lance was in no position to accuse. Keith's hair had reached his shoulders just the day before, and now it only reached the nape of his neck, like it had before he left, in true mullet fashion. 

Lance reached out and touched it, to be sure. He ran his fingers from root to tip, feeling the silky softness transition to coarse split-ends. Keith hadn't cut his hair. It had been severely damaged overnight, to the point of complete breakage. Lance knew, because it was _absolutely_ shorter. 

That also explained how embarrassed Keith looked having Lance touch his hair. His face was beet red, and his eyebrows were furrowed. Keith knew what had happened to his hair, and he was ashamed, Lance could tell. 

“I have a treatment you can use on your ends. If you want, I can get it for you now.” Lance offered gently, moving his hand to Keith's shoulder in support. 

His cheeks were still faintly red, and he looked pointedly down at his own feet. “it’s not necessary. Let’s- let's just head to the med bay, alright?” 

As Keith turned and marched out of the room, Lance stage whispered after him, “If you ever want it just ask!” 

Keith looked back once again to glare with his red cheeks. Lance laughed, jogging to catch up.

…

As excited as Lance had been to be rid of his concussion, he found himself hesitating to put on the suit. Even after their argument and make up, there was still a little piece of Lance that wanted him to know that Keith wouldn't care anymore: That, despite his promise, everything would go back to how it was. Keith wouldn't give him the time of day… or worse. 

He sat there, thinking and rethinking, for what had to have been long enough to tip everyone off to his struggles, because Keith was ducking his head in before Lance knew it. 

“You think you'll be up to train after this?” he poked, “or are you scared I’ll be too much of a challenge?” 

Lance decided, Gazing at Keith with his crooked smile and unmoving scar, that he would risk it. 

“You’re on, Samurai.” 

…

Training with Keith was actually the most fun Lance had had in a long time, but he wasn’t necessarily winning. 

It had started out as honest, fair, sparring- to practice with Lance's new sword, but eventually it devolved into whatever you could call Keith's unfair fighting style, then even further into just plain wrestling. 

Keith had Lance pinned to the ground, wiping the floor with him, _literally,_ for the 20th time. 

“so,” Lance panted out, “you're making up for leaving… by… beating my ass.” 

“Well” Keith smiled down at him, “it wouldn't do _you_ much good if I let you win, would it?” 

“I don’t know… I'd be a lot less tired” 

“What would you learn from that?” Keith said as he rolled off of Lance. 

Lance sighed before looking at him, searching his eyes before asking, “the training is how you're making up for it, though. I’ll be stronger. That's it, right?” 

“No. I'm trying to go back to how it was. I want to be friends.” 

As he said it, he radiated frustration. It was the acknowledgement Lance had been looking for: Keith recognized that they had been getting close before he left and then… he left… but there was something else, too. Keith had a look in his eyes that seemed almost defeated. Keith really thought they couldn't go back. 

Yeah, it was different sometimes, but even if older Keith was _older,_ he was still Keith to some extent. Not exactly Lance's former rival, but something past that. He couldn't pretend it didn't feel like a chunk was taken out of him, just knowing that he missed out on his Keith growing into _this,_ but this Keith could always be his friend, too. 

“You know…” Lance interrupted the long hanging silence, “ you should come to the movie night.” 

and as if to illustrate how much he had changed in one, finishing blow, Keith answered, “I wouldn't miss it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter didnt disappoint you like it disapointed me lmao. Also, i love you all <3


	5. Chapter 4 part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update less than a month later?!? its more likely than you think. I'm going to combine this with chapter 4 eventually, but for now im going to leave it like this so its less confusing, hopefully.

Lance spent the next hour scrubbing the sweat he had accumulated in training with Keith from his skin.

If they were back on Earth, Lance thought, he would have spent some of that time procuring a single use hair treatment to slip under Keith's door; all Lance had now was contained in a chunky jar Keith would be too embarrassed to ask for. 

His mind only traveled from there. 

Showers would forever be the best place to think things through. Lance could enter his shower and his worries would be washed down the drain. It did help that the showerheads on the ship released water in a rain-like pattern, though.

It also helped that he was alone. Privately, Lance could admit that things had never been straight forward with Keith. With every jest and jab, Lance knew there was something else there that he just was never ready to put a name to. The environment was perfect for him to continue that way, possibly, forever. Keith would do something, the little feeling would bubble up, Lance would snap at it, and Keith would snap at him for snapping. 

They had been a series of snaps, until they were friends instead, and Lance didn't snap at his friends easily. So, when the subtle tinge of whatever it was reared its head, Lance held onto it. It was that simple. 

_Older Keith_ was _Keith,_ Lance had been trying to drill the idea into his head for weeks. They could be friends, and really… the familiar feeling was still there- it had just gone _strange._ Lance _couldn't_ snap if he wanted to; he didn't know what buttons to press or where those buttons were. 

so.. Lance and Keith could be friends, but whatever complexity there was to that before, Lance decided, would be laid to rest. 

He left the his shower with clean skin and a clear mind, fully prepared to cuddle with Hunk and have a really, really good movie night with the team. 

He had, however, managed to make himself late, so the movie had already been selected and everyone was, pretty much, settled into their seats. 

On the couch, Coran, Keith, and Hunk took up most of the space. In one reclining seat off to the side, Allura and Romelle had squeezed in together. Shiro had the other, closest to Coran, to himself. 

Usually, Lance would have taken the spot Keith currently occupied, but by the end of the night, he always ended up sitting, basically, on top of Hunk. 

He was a cuddler. Sue him. 

Forgoing the inevitable, he planted himself in Keith’s lap, and he had planned to lay out across _everyone's_ laps, with his head in Hunk’s and feet in Coran's, but Keith had other ideas.

Lance would have expected him to be hands-off and simply _tolerate_ Lance being in his personal space, but Keith was always defying expectation, anymore. 

Lance couldn't be sure if he had sat first or if Keith had pulled him into his lap the second he guessed what Lance would do. The result, either way, was Keith _holding_ him. He could feel himself sporting a full body blush, and he prayed that no one would call attention to it, as Keith placed his chin over his left shoulder. 

Everyone was looking. They had all picked up on the rift between the pair before they left, so this was far too new and exciting to withhold commentary. Upon catching Shiro's suspicious eye, Lance shifted himself, his back against Hunk, with his ass wedged into the space between him and Keith. He still had his legs draped over his lap, though. 

“So! what are we watching?” he asked, subtly begging them to let it go. Keith's crossed arms indicated his thoughts on Lance's new sitting position well enough, but he was the one to answer. 

“They all voted on this Romcom” he huffed. “You won't like it at all.” 

“Don't you mean _you_ won’t like it, Keith?” Allura teased, “I'm sure it'll be just to Lance's taste.”

They all laughed at that, and Coran added, “I can’t see our Loverboy Lance having any problem with a little romance.” 

It was true, though. Lance wasn't big on romantic comedies. He liked both genres individually, but they never went together as well as he'd like. There were good ones, but most didn’t hit that mark. 

He did pretend to like them for Hunk, though. Hunk was a major people pleaser. If he knew Lance didn't like them, he wouldn't suggest them for their own movie nights alone, anymore, in favor of something they would both agree on. Even if they were technically agreeing, Lance thought it was still a bit unfair to take Romcoms away from Him. 

Lance smiled at Keith gently, hoping he got the idea, before he agreed with them. “Yeah Keith, I love a good Romcom.” 

Keith still looked like he wanted to protest, frowning with his brows furrowed as his eyes met Lance's once again. He had his arms uncrossed and resting on Lance’s legs, a hand running over his knee. Lance guessed it was supposed to be supportive. He leaned forward into Keith's shoulder once again, and quietly, so no one heard, whispered his thanks into his ear. 

Everyone’s attention had moved on from them, so they returned gradually to their original position: Lance, fully in Keith’s lap and Keith’s arms around his waist. It was nice. 

The movie was dead boring, though. Pidge had left the second she realized the thriller she and Keith voted on would lose. Coran never came back after leaving to get food; Lance could only presume he had fallen ill from his own cooking. Allura and Romelle were still interested; they cuddled tightly on their small chair, laughing and crying along with the movie's plot. Hunk took Shiro’s chair when he left to make sure Pidge didn’t feel excluded, and Lance and Keith had the couch all to themselves. 

Lance had assumed they would spread out, since they had the space to, but they didn't. 

“You're a pretty clingy friend, huh, Samurai?” he teased. “Wouldn't have thought that of you before.”

“Well you didn't think too much about me at all before” Keith argued. 

From their chair, Romelle and Allura shushed them disapprovingly. 

Lance had already stiffened against Keith, hoping he hadn’t said something that would ruin their recently recovered friendship. 

It was awkward for a while after that, until Keith took Lance’s hand in his own and squeezed it in reassurance. Lance couldn't be sure he was forgiven, but it felt like Keith was saying _it's okay,_ so he settled into him comfortably, but cautiously this time. They were both fast asleep, Lance laying on top of Keith across the length of the couch, by the time Shiro returned for the Credits. 

Lance pretended to stay asleep when Shiro cleared his throat over them. 

“You two need to go back to your rooms.” he commanded. 

Keith, boldly going where few men dared, shushed Shiro and whispered something about “waking up Lance.” 

Even with his eyes closed, Lance could feel Shiro’s disapproval. 

“The _two_ of you need to be awake to go back to your _own_ rooms.” Shiro restated, sending a chill down Lance's spine. 

“I can carry him, Shiro, just let him sleep.” 

Lance couldn't tell what was exchanged after that, because next thing he knew, he was being hefted into a bridal carry in Keith's arms. 

“What’s going on here, Keith?” Shiro sighed, defeated. 

“I- it's kind of a long story.” he chuckled, as he laid Lance out on the bed. He continued, “It was on the whale I just… had a lot of time to think and I saw some things that… They change things, Shiro” 

Their voices retreated from Lance’s room and down the hall, as the door shut behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so the next update wont be this quick, unfortunately. Im still seeing 6 chapters total (this chapter doesn't count towards that because its really still in chapter 4) and the next will probably be as long as this. Im not happy with this chapter as a whole, but maybe the speedy update will make it up to you :)? <333333


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ive decided its way too hard to combine the 2 parts of chapter 4, so now there will be 7 chapters instead of 6. I also waited to answer the comments from the last chapter until like 10 minutes ago so im really sorry about that one, hahh. Anyway, i hope yall enjoy this chapter, im actually kind of happy with it? and its a long one, by my standards

Keith didn't come to wake Lance the next morning. It was unusual. Since Lance had concussed himself, Keith always woke him up and brought him along for morning training. The boundary that had risen between them in Keith's time away had disappeared almost immediately when Lance had the… accident. During the movie, they had... cuddled... on the couch. In front of everyone. So, they were friends again. That's not to say all was forgiven, but given their progress, Lance could see it happening. He could see things growing far beyond the tentative friendship they currently had. 

Keith skipping out on their routine, however, put quite a wrench in it. Lance waited up until breakfast, but Keith never showed. After a while, Lance began dressing himself slowly; holding onto the little hope that Keith was still running late, and still, there was no sign of him. 

The common sense part of Lance's brain told him that Keith didn't care anymore. The ‘friendship’ had been fabricated for some unidentified nefarious plot. The gullible part of his brain trusted Keith, though, and argued that he had gone to bed late. He overslept- or Shiro had planned something with Keith that took priority. 

A third part of Lance, maybe not his brain, went cold when the latter thought surfaced. It meant that Keith would never choose to be with Lance when he could be with Shiro instead. And it wasn’t fair. Keith was allowed to spend time with other people; Shiro had practically raised him! But, if that was the case, Keith could have let him know. He could have messaged him on the cellphone-like device Pidge had crafted for each of them, or come in person just to say ‘hey, we won't be able to train together today, I made plans with Shiro, but maybe some other time.’ 

Keith did none of that. So maybe their routine just wasn't important. Maybe he didn't see it as a routine at all. Lance lingered just inside his own doorway, deciding if he should try checking in on Keith. It... wouldn't hurt to knock. If Keith had really just ditched him, he wouldn't be there to answer, anyway. If he _was_ there, he had probably just overslept, right? 

That's how Lance saw it, at least. 

He stood outside Keith's door for another ridiculous amount of time, going back and forth, considering and reconsidering, before he finally did it. He sighed deeply and raised his hand to rap gently on the door. The sound landed dead to his ears as if he had knocked on a solid wall. Keith wouldn’t have heard it, even if he was there. Lance grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut as he reached up to try once more. Then he heard the _swoosh_ of the door opening. 

“Lance” Keith acknowledged him tersely. When Lance opened his eyes, he saw Keith was without the smile he had grown used to seeing on his face. 

“Hey” Lance sheepishly replied. “You didn't come get me for training earlier. Is everything alright?” 

“Your head is better now, I assumed you would want to sleep in.” 

While that was all well and good, it didn't seem like Keith was telling the whole truth. He wasn't looking Lance in the eyes, and he still wasn’t smiling. 

“Well, we had that routine. _I_ assumed you would be coming” Lance responded. He could feel a deepening frown on his face and quickly corrected it. 

Keith sighed, and leaned into his door frame, running a hand over the red scar on his cheek. Lance noticed, again, that Keith wasn't quite as tall as he had thought when he first returned. Instead of crediting it to the height he so obviously gained from his shoes, Lance wondered if it was Keith's new confidence making him seem taller. 

“Do you want to train later, Lance?” 

Lance, as a matter of fact, _did_ want to train, but Keith's question sounded like defeat. Like he was sacrificing something just by continuing the routine _he_ had started. It didn't sound like Keith really wanted to at all. 

And maybe, Lance was a clown for it, but he said yes. 

…

They ate breakfast first. Keith sat at his usual seat once again. Lance really hadn't expected them to suddenly sit together, but some biting feeling surfaced whenever he looked at him. 

He and Shiro talked to one another like they always had before. At one point, Shiro's eyes met Lance's across the table, and he smiled just a bit, not letting it reach his furrowed brows, before looking back to Keith. Lance tried to focus on his plate; to stop staring at them and _just_ be cool, but he could feel them looking at him, from then out. When he looked up again, he was met with a strange, sad and cold gaze from Keith. 

Lance just couldn't figure out what was going on. It hadn't seemed last night that he was being _too_ cuddly; in fact, Keith had seemed to enjoy it as much as Lance. Lance also hadn’t forgotten how Keith had carried him to bed, not letting Shiro wake him- Shiro’s distaste with their couch cuddling wasn’t lost on Lance either, even without opening his eyes. They were just friends, though. Lance would have been in the same position with Hunk at the end of the night, if Keith had decided to skip out. 

Most of all, though, Lance remembered Shiro and Keith’s conversation over him as they thought he slept. Keith had seen something on the space whale that _changed things?_ What could have changed? they were friends before. They were on a road that, so far, had made them a bit _closer,_ but things were mostly the same on Lance's end. 

Shiro and Keith didn't look his way again for the rest of the meal- until Shiro stood to leave. It wasn't that Lance was _trying_ to eavesdrop, but he caught the tail end of their conversation. 

“- don't have to stop being friends with him Keith, that’s not what I meant.”

“No, you were right-” Keith whispered the last of his words more softly. Lance couldn’t guess what they were, but Shiro looked almost pained to hear them. He put his hand on Keith’s shoulder, and squeezed before he finally left for good. 

Whatever was going on, it had become even less clear than before, but it had something to do with Shiro. It really didn't make sense for Shiro to want Keith to distance himself from Lance just because they had cuddled. Their conversation about the whale had to have led to it. 

Shiro had told Keith what he thought about the situation, but Lance hadn’t gotten his chance yet. Lance's input should be more important, anyway, he was the other party in their relationship, not _Shiro._ It wouldn't be easy to convince Keith to go against his mentor and _family,_ but Lance had to at least tell Keith what he thought. 

…

They made their way to the training room together and in silence. Once, their swinging hands brushed against each other, and Lance blushed as he thought about holding his hand. He’d held Hunk's hand before, it wasn't weird. It could be a joke, even. Keith would laugh with him, breaking the tension, and then they would let go. Their hands didn't brush again, however, because Keith had scurried to the left side of the hall, as far from Lance as it would allow. 

The silence grew more oppressive as they reached the training room. Keith wouldn't even look at him as he readied the floor for their session. 

Lance stood and watched until, finally, Keith called him over. 

“Did you want to spar or go against the bots?” He asked. 

“Spar.” 

Sparing was a new benefit of Lance’s bayard transformation. Ge couldn’t be sure, but last time they had trained together, he was convinced Keith had even been impressed by his sword.

Keith activated his bayard and positioned himself in the center of the room, waiting for Lance to join him. 

“Ready?” he asked as Lance stood before him. 

“Ready.”

“We’ll start on 3,” Keith clarified for Lance. He looked in his eyes, still gruffly, as he began his count. “1…”

Lance hoped this would fix whatever was troubling Keith. Training was his bread and butter; it would at least improve his mood enough that Lance could talk to him.

“2…” 

_“No, you were right”_ he had said. Shiro's words confirmed, there was something wrong. He didn't think they could be friends anymore, and it hurt. They were close enough that Lance believed, already, that something small couldn't tear them apart. 

So, he still had to try. If Keith wouldn't listen, then nothing could be done, but maybe it wasn’t hopeless. Lance geared himself up as Keith’s final call approached.

“3!”

They both surged forward, Keith moving faster than Lance, clashing their swords again and again. It didn't take long for them to break a sweat, and from there, the harder they worked to defeat each other, the more smiles made appearances on either face. 

“Are you out of practice, Old Man?” Lance teased. 

Keith stumbled a bit, eyes wide, and almost… sad. 

Before Lance could react, he moved forward again, with more tenacity than before. 

They clashed against each other again and again, until Lance had his blade victoriously pointed just under Keith's chin.

He had won. 

He couldn't bask in his own glory long, however, because in the blink of an eye Keith had reached beyond his sword to Lance's arm; Which he used to flip him onto his stomach. 

“Hey! I won!” he protested. Keith still held his arm behind his back and straddled him.

“It’s not over until someone can't fight anymore,” Keith said, pulling Lance’s sword from his hand, “and you can’t fight without this.” 

“Well if that's the case,” Lance smirked, “then I can do _this!”_

__He lifted his hips from the ground and flipped over on top of Keith, who practically _squealed_ in surprise. He shouldn’t have: he made the rules himself, after all. 

From there, they just started wrestling again. Even Keith was laughing and smiling, now. He was himself again, and they were happy together. If Keith could see that, then Lance had a real shot with him. 

They wore themselves down quickly, and laid there on their backs panting until Lance moved to lay on top of Keith. He crawled up to him, he rested his head on his chest and let his legs lay crossed between Keith's. It was comfortable. Keith even lifted a hand to rest on Lance's head. 

But as soon as he had, he stiffened. 

“Move, Lance.” 

“No, I'm comfortable.” Lance retorted, in a way he thought must be cute- but Keith? not so much. He pushed Lance to the floor and clambered towards the farthest wall, once again. 

“What the hell, Keith!” He made no secret of his hurt, and going by Keith's guilty, crossed arms, it showed on Lance's face. 

“This just- It’s time for Lunch. I'm going to go shower. I'll come to get you, and we can do this again tomorrow.” 

Lance had no time to protest, as Keith ran from the room. 

…

Lance didn't see Keith at lunch or dinner. In fact, he didn't see him for the rest of the day.

…

He _did_ come to wake him up the next morning. 

He didn't knock. He let himself in and stood as the door closed behind him. The sound was what ultimately woke Lance. 

Upon noticing Keith, he smirked and decided to tease him once again. 

“Aren't you gonna kiss me on my forehead? Come wake me up like my mama would?” 

Keith looked a bit horrified, if Lance was being honest. He was about to apologize when Keith finally spoke up. 

“No… I'm not going to do stuff like that anymore, Lance.”

For the millionth time in the last 2 days, Lance registered an intense _hurt._ It had been a joke, but that was just what they _did._ He hadn't wanted to get used to it, but Keith had done everything to persuade him. He _knew,_ from the start, that Keith would hurt him. Maybe, at some point, he'd had good intentions, but did it really matter? Lance should never have trusted it. 

“Why the hell not? _You_ are the one who said we would be friends.” 

“I talked to Shiro, and it’s just not a good idea. I thought it was, but it's not and-” He slapped his hands over his cheeks and his light pink scar, pushing upwards until they covered his eyes, “I'm sorry.” 

“This is between you and me; what does Shiro have to do with it?”

“It doesn't matter that it was Shiro who said it, he was right. We both know this isn't work-”

“Oh? I wasn't aware that this isn't _working_ for you, Keith, I'm sorry that I inconvenienced you with my _friendship!”_

__“God, Lance! You know what I- nevermind! I don't have time to do this with you. I'm leaving.”

He left quickly, but Lance followed him into the hall. 

“Yeah? well, say goodbye to my hair treatment, asshole, because you aren't allowed to use it anymore!” Lance yelled after him. 

Keith didn't even turn to reply. “I didn't want to use it, to begin with!” 

That was infuriating. 

“Sure looks like you wanted my moisturizer! I saw your scar, and I'm the only one in this ship with shit good enough to fix that!” 

Keith _finally_ turned, but his confusion and anger were clear as day. “Just shut up!” he yelled back. He all but ran to his room, and if he could have slammed his door, most likely, he would have. Lance was stunned. Older Keith was acting more and more like younger Keith, and Lance was confused all over again. 

Lance stood there in the hall for a good long while before he retreated to his own room. Who could have guessed that things would get messed up so quickly? Well, Lance had, but he had doubted himself. 

Probably, nothing would have been messed up, at all, if Shiro hadn't said whatever he did, but Lance couldn't convince Keith to listen. 

So as he laid there, heartbroken and hurt over the loss of _Keith-_ His friend Keith, who helped him out whenever he needed it, and who Lance had once helped in turn… he was far too valuable a person to just let go. He _knew_ they were good together, and Lance decided he had no other choice but to convince Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :/ im sorry i made them fight again theyre just having a rough time right now

**Author's Note:**

> so... yeah i hope it wasnt too ooc. ive also never had a concussion so that may be very off. this is set after s6 but im still not okay with the castle blowing up soo it didnt :) also, who is season 7? i dont know her.


End file.
